


the art of overcoming fear

by shrimp_princess



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: First Kiss, M/M, Post-Canon, crowley is very fragile, i mention gabriel one (1) time im sorry, they love each other a lot ok
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-03
Updated: 2020-04-03
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:41:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23465575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shrimp_princess/pseuds/shrimp_princess
Summary: i wrote this in an airport starbucks three months ago and am finally posting it ! how exciting is thatfollow me on tumblr @theycallmebeaker :)
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 61





	the art of overcoming fear

Crowley had spent many late nights in Aziraphale’s shop, too many to count, so this particular night was not out of the ordinary. They were capable of talking for hours on end about a single topic, especially when fueled by alcohol. 

Crowley very much enjoyed Aziraphale’s company, with or without the drinking, and he assumed that Aziraphale enjoyed him just as much. Aziraphale was quite particular; he would have kicked Crowley out by now if he really didn’t want him to be there. 

He wanted Crowley there, and it filled Crowley with a bubbling sort of feeling that he would tentatively call _joy._

A lull in their conversation, while not strange, was rare. Aziraphale seemed to have lost his train of thought, and Crowley… Well, Crowley had been more focused on Aziraphale’s lips than what he’d actually been saying. 

But then Aziraphale leaned forward. “There’s actually something...something I’ve been meaning to discuss with you.” 

He sounded serious. Crowley wasn’t drunk enough for that. He’d barely downed two glasses of wine. He was tipsy, at best. 

He tried his hardest to act casual, leaning back into the comfort of the sofa. “Can it wait until we’ve finished the bottle?” 

“I rather think it can’t.” 

Crowley stared at him for a long time. He was glad he had not taken his glasses off. 

Aziraphale must have been waiting for Crowley to argue, or say anything at all, because the silence stretched on. Crowley began running excuses in his head to leave the bookshop. 

_ I’ve got to water my plants. I’ve got some evil deeds to commit. I-- _

Aziraphale cleared his throat. “Well. Then.” 

Crowley tried not to feel nervous about his fragmented words.

“The thing is, Crowley,” Aziraphale stammered on. He was looking straight at him, squinting as if trying to see through him. “Would you mind taking off your glasses for a moment, my dear?” 

Crowley didn’t move. “I would mind,” he said slowly. 

Aziraphale would get frustrated with him and stop trying to say what he was going to say. Things would go right back to normal. As normal as an angel and a demon in the middle of London could get, anyway.

Crowley watched as Aziraphale’s lips formed a straight line.  _ Yes, tell me this is best left for another time. Show me to the door. Everything will be better that way.  _

“Alright,” Aziraphale said quietly. He was fiddling with his hands, a nervous habit. Crowley felt a tinge of guilt, knowing that he was the one sparking Aziraphale’s anxiety. “I’ll just, um. I’ve been thinking lately. About the things you’ve said.” 

“That can’t be good,” Crowley half-heartedly joked.

Aziraphale gave him a forced smile. “My dear--” 

Crowley sat up, cutting Aziraphale off. He could not do this. Not now, not after everything. “Stop.” 

“You don’t know what I was going to say!” Aziraphale protested.

“I do. I  _ do. _ And I don’t want things to change.” 

Aziraphale sat back, a defeated posture. His blue eyes, which always sparkled around Crowley, were sunken. Crowley hated himself all of a sudden, realizing what he sounded like. 

“No,” Crowley immediately said. “No, I don’t mean…” What  _ did _ he mean? What was he trying to say? 

He wanted to pull his hair out in frustration. 

“Aziraphale.” No, that wasn’t right. __ “Angel,” he corrected himself. “We just saved the world. We’re trying to find our new normal.” 

Aziraphale nodded absentmindedly, deep in thought. 

“And this wouldn’t be normal. Or-or safe. The arrangement and our…” Crowley faltered before he could say friendship. Aziraphale’s words echoing back to him.  _ We’re not friends. _ “...our acquaintanceship is one thing. We fooled heaven and hell once, but if they  _ knew _ \--” 

“I am tired of living my life in fear.” Aziraphale was looking up at him. Looking him straight in the eyes, even if he couldn’t see them behind the glasses. 

Crowley had seen him determined before. Seen him angry and stubborn and scary and powerful. It never ceased to amaze him.

Aziraphale was beautiful. Not in the way traditional angels were depicted in paintings with their cute faces and their two eyes and two wings. Aziraphale was beautiful in the way the ocean was--deeply terrifying the more you knew about it, but you couldn’t look away, couldn’t stop returning and taking it all in again.

“You asked me to run away with you,” Aziraphale said, snapping Crowley out of his thoughts. 

Crowley had the urge to slap his past self for being so impulsive and stupid. “It was the end of the world.” 

“Yes, but now...  _ Now _ we have more time. And I would like to--” 

“Don’t.”

Aziraphale wasn’t breaking eye contact. Even with his glasses on, Crowley could see the tears in Aziraphale's eyes. He felt a piece of his heart fracture.

“Have you changed your mind?” Aziraphale's voice was quiet, full of fear _._

“About what?” 

“I thought you… Well, you implied that you--” 

_ Loved me? Wanted to spend the rest of your life with me? Would defy heaven and hell for me? _

All of those were true. “No. I haven’t changed my mind.”

“Then I don’t understand _. _ ” 

Crowley curled his hands into fists, trying to keep from showing his distress. Aziraphale deserved an explanation, he knew this. He had to try. 

“I can’t lose this.” 

_ Crowley is in the shop. The shop is burning, and Aziraphale isn’t there.  _

“Again,” he added softly, glancing at the bookshelves around them, almost expecting them to burst into flames in front of his eyes. He narrowed his eyes, daring them to think about doing such a thing. “I can’t watch you burn and leave me here. It would hurt a million times worse if we change this.” 

His last words came out in a rush, and only after he finished speaking did he realize that he hadn’t been breathing, and he sucked in a shaky breath.

Aziraphale was silent. Agonizingly silent. Crowley was regretting saying anything at all, regretting his sorry excuse for an explanation, when Aziraphale stood up. 

Crowley scooted as far away as he could, back against the sofa. They couldn’t do this. Aziraphale had told him countless times, and he knew, he  _ knew _ that if Hell found out they wouldn’t care that he was supposedly immune to holy water. They’d find another way. 

And Heaven wouldn’t be much different. Crowley had been up there, seen Gabriel’s face as he expected Aziraphale to burn in front of him. 

Crowley would never let that happen in actuality. 

Aziraphale kneeled in front of him. “I’m so sorry, my dear.” 

“It’s nothing.” His answer was automatic. 

“It’s not nothing.” Aziraphale was so close. He wasn’t touching Crowley, but they were inches apart. Crowley couldn’t look away from him. 

“I’m a demon,” Crowley whispered. “Hellspawn. And you’re...holy.” 

“I thought you said there were no sides.” 

“What if I burn you? Or you fall _ , _ angel, you could  _ fall _ .” Crowley realized with horror that he was crying, but he couldn’t stop. He knew Aziraphale could see the tears on his cheeks and hear the wetness in his voice. 

“I won’t.” 

“You can’t be sure. You can’t.” 

“I  _ am. _ ” 

And then Aziraphale took his hands. Crowley wanted to pull away, knew that he  _ should _ pull away, but he didn’t want to. He wanted this more than anything else, even if it was selfish and dangerous. 

“See?” Aziraphale said. He kissed Crowley’s left hand and Crowley almost passed out. “It’s okay.” He kissed him again. “It’s okay.” 

Crowley could barely get his mouth to work. “If they find out…” 

Aziraphale smiled up at him. “I used to be a warrior once, you know. I won’t let anything happen to us.” 

“A heavy emphasis on the  _ used to. _ ” 

“My dear, I am perfectly capable.” 

The selfish part, the  _ demonic _ part of Crowley wanted to agree with him. Wanted to lean down and kiss him for the first time, to wrap his arms around him and thread his fingers through his hair and for once in his life to stop feeling scared. 

But Crowley was dangerous, and he wasn’t meant to be touched like this, or loved. He knew this all too well. 

“I love you, Crowley.” 

Crowley closed his eyes. Not that Aziraphale would be able to tell. But he couldn’t look at Aziraphale without feeling the overwhelming desire to kiss him. He couldn’t listen to Aziraphale saying that he  _ loves _ him. 

“I love you more than anything. And I am so sorry that it took me so long to realize it. To accept it. But I’m ready now if you are. I want nothing more than to spend the rest of eternity--”

“Stop,” Crowley choked out. 

Aziraphale did, but he didn’t let go of Crowley’s hands. Every cell in Crowley’s useless, paper thin body wanted to hold Aziraphale’s hands forever, but he slowly, slowly moved away, and with shaking hands, reached up and removed his sunglasses, eyes still squeezed shut. 

He took two deep breaths. “I’m afraid.”

“We’re okay. They can’t come for us.” 

“I’m afraid of a lot of things, angel, not just heaven and hell. I’m afraid that you’ll find out how...how worthless and hellish I really am. I don’t ever want to watch you realize that.” 

“ _ Crowley… _ ” 

This name that he had chosen. This name that he had given to Aziraphale thousands of years ago, a name that had been repeated numerous times, but it still carried the most weight when Aziraphale said it. He said it like it was something special, something he coveted. 

Crowley opened his eyes. Aziraphale was crying, too. 

Crowley reacted impulsively before he could reprimand himself for being the cause of the angel’s tears. He reached forward and gently wiped them away. 

Aziraphale smiled, leaning into Crowley’s touch. 

“You are not worthless,” Aziraphale said after a few moments. “Or hellish.” 

Crowley laughed. “I’m a  _ demon. _ ” 

“A lovely demon.” Aziraphale took Crowley’s hand again. Kissed his wrist. “A  _ kind _ demon. A smart and brave and--”

“You are ridiculous,” Crowley murmured. 

And then, before he could lose the little spark of courage he’d kindled in the last minute, he leaned forward and he pressed his lips against Aziraphale’s for the first time.

Aziraphale made a little noise in surprise but quickly returned the kiss. It was close-mouthed and gentle at first, but that was mostly because Crowley barely knew what he was doing. 

Time had always been more or less irrelevant to Crowley, as he was immortal, but he lost all sense of it when he kissed Aziraphale. An eternity, six thousand years, was packed into a single moment and it was better than Crowley had imagined. Not that he imagined Aziraphale would be  _ bad, _ but he was an angel. He wasn’t necessarily supposed to know how to open his mouth like that, how to tilt his head at just the right angle, how to join Crowley on the couch by straddling his legs and holding his face.

Crowley was in love. 

He had been for a while now, but for once, it felt good.

“I love you, too,” Crowley said against his lips. He didn’t know how long they’d been kissing. It didn’t matter. Neither of them needed to breathe, anyway.

Aziraphale smiled in response, their noses touching. Crowley’s already pounding heart beat a little faster. 

“I love you,” Crowley repeated because he realized that he  _ could. _ He could say it over and over and over again and it was okay. 

This time, Aziraphale kissed him on the forehead, his lips lingering against Crowley’s skin. Crowley closed his eyes, not because he was afraid, but because he was content. He was here with Aziraphale, finally, finally,  _ finally,  _ and he was safe.

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this in an airport starbucks three months ago and am finally posting it ! how exciting is that  
> follow me on tumblr @theycallmebeaker :)


End file.
